


Nightmare (Bloodlust)

by LadyLustful



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Based on a Dream, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Clothed Sex, Comeplay, Crack, Desmond Miles is scarred for life, Dirty Talk, Dreams and Nightmares, Frottage, I am ashamed of myself, M/M, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, This is terrible, Vampires, although not scared for his life, and scared for life, dominant!Connor, pushy bottom Haytham, submissive!Haytham, there is a difference people, vampire porn, vampire!Altair -mentioned, vampire!Connor, vampire!Haytham, vampire!Maria -mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 16:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11489961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLustful/pseuds/LadyLustful
Summary: The where Haytham is Connor's sire but the boy still manages to overpower him. Blood drinking and sex ensue.Shameless crackporn





	Nightmare (Bloodlust)

 

Uncouth, obstinate savage the boy might be, but still, Haytham is sometimes ridiculously proud of his progeny. Even as young as he is, the boy is already fast enough to take Haytham by surprise. Strong enough to hold Haytham down, like he is doing now, hands on Haytham's wrists, hips between his thighs, two hundred pounds of warm, solid muscle pinning him down with their weight. And Haytham could use a trick or two or three to get loose, could order the boy as his Maker to back the fuck off, but he doesn't want to. Not with the way the boy is grinding against him, massive, almost-scarily-big-but-in-a-good-thrilling-way dick rubbing against Haytham's own, fangs buried in Haytham's neck as he draws out slow, steady gulps of blood. Not paying Haytham any attention except as a source of blood and a body to rut against. And that's thrilling in its own way – it's been years since he became a Master vampire, years since anyone treated him like prey, and being both used and ignored is different enough to be exciting. (Has it really been that long since his last proper fuck???)

Connor lets go of his hands, and Haytham makes to flip them over, but the boy does something wicked with his mouth that makes Haytham see stars and his fingers grasp helplessly at Connor's hair and jacket, pleasure-pain lancing though his body. And when he can see straight again, Connor is holding his hips in a vicelike grip, thrusting against them, his pulls of Haytham's blood rougher, with no consideration for the elder vampire's pain...

Haytham can't really help that he comes all over himself embarrassingly fast.

The next thing he knows, the small wound on his neck has already sealed shut and Connor is kneeling between his spread legs, unbuttoning Haytham's clothes, mouth red with blood, cock - Haytham notices - still hard and looking just as deliciously huge as it felt. Maybe more. He peels Haytham out of his shirt and jacket, pulls his pants and boots off to throw them aside in one messy jumble, then proceeds to clean the cooling semen of Haytham's stomach with a delightfully agile tongue, swallow the softening cock in a way that is both too much too soon and makes Haytham desperately wish he could get hard again immediately and fuck the boy's throat till he choked and cried.

When Connor looks at the elder vampire again, there are smears of white as well as red on his lips.

“Kiss me.”

“Why should I?”

“I'm the fucking Grandmaster; now bloody well kiss me.”

Technically he is not the Grandmaster – Altair is, and Altair is over six hundred years old, was a ruthless, slightly psychotic – or was it psychopathic? - and extremely skilled killer before he was turned, as well as having the support of Maria, who is less crazy but just as old and lethal – but Altair also has the basic decency of not caring what he does in the colonies or in bed with his fledge, or especially both.

Connor leans in obligingly, letting Haytham clean his own blood and seed from his mouth, tongues tangling lazily as they explore each other. Then he leans back and stands up to strip off his own clothes, and somehow, as good as he looked clothed, he looks even better naked, not bigger, but somehow even more imposing – tall and built and hung, clad in nothing but bronze skin and black hair, he is a force of nature.

“I'm going to fuck you now, Grandmaster,” the boy somehow makes the word sound mocking, derisive. “I'm going to bend you over, hold you down, and fuck your ass until you're so full, so loose, you can't keep my spunk inside. And then if you still haven't run out of semen, maybe I'll suck you off.”

*

“Noooo!”, yelled Desmond Miles, shooting up in a tangle of blankets.

“Whaddeellisit?”, yawned Shaun, casting a bleary, glassless, disoriented stare around him. “The bleeedin' Bleedin' Effect again?”

Desmond actually shuddered.

“Man, I sincerely fucking hope not.”

 


End file.
